Should've Known Better
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: They should have lived happily ever after, but instead a tragedy had separated them. When circumstances bring them together again, Derek is nothing like the young man Penelope remembers-having turned into a careless and vengeful man. Garcia/Morgan
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: In case you haven't noticed, I **love** stories where true loves are separated for years and then find each other again. I hope you're not sick of it yet! LOL Enjoy!_

"Do you want me to come with you?" Derek asked softly.

Penelope laughed as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "No. I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry you have to do this," he said.

She sighed. "It's my fault," she said. She hadn't planned on meeting Derek Morgan this summer. And she certainly hadn't planned on falling in love. Not while her boyfriend was all the way across the country working on his internship.

Derek laughed. "That you're crazy about me?"

She bit her lower lip to hold back a grin. "OK, well _that's _your fault."

Derek chuckled as he hugged her tight. "I'll see you in a bit," he said.

She nodded. "I'll be back in a few hours," she said.

He smiled at her as she got into her car and drove away. Breaking up with Todd wasn't going to be easy; they'd been together since she was sixteen—for almost six years. But after falling in love with Derek…Penelope no longer had a choice. And she _hadn't_ planned on it.

Derek's family was on vacation and Penelope's family was at their summer camp. It wasn't that far from their house, but it was on the lake and they'd spent summers there for as long as she could remember. Derek's family was there from Chicago, renting a camp that was a little ways down the road. She'd met him when he'd gotten a job as a waiter where her brother, Preston, worked and Preston had brought him home. She hadn't been able to resist him from the moment she'd met him and to her surprise, the attraction had been mutual.

She sighed as she made her way to town to face the music—and break up with Todd.

XXXXX

Derek checked his watch again. Penelope should have been back hours ago and he was getting worried. He grabbed the keys off the counter and had just opened the door when he saw the headlights. He stood on the porch and watched as she got out of the car and walked towards him. "Hey," he said softly. "I didn't think you were gonna come back." She didn't say anything, as she walked up the steps, he noticed she was shivering. "Penelope?"

"My parents are gone," she said tonelessly.

"Where did they go?" he asked.

"They're dead."

"What?" Derek asked in disbelief. "Penelope," he said feelingly.

"They were hit by a drunk driver."

He swallowed past the lump of fear in his throat. "Are you…OK?" It was a weak question, but he didn't know what else to say.

She shook her head as if to clear it. "I told Todd about us," she said instead of answering his question.

Derek studied her face. It was as if he knew what was coming.

"He forgives me."

"Penelope," Derek rasped. "_No._" His tone was begging.

"He can take care of me," she whispered.

"_I_ can take care of you," he told her desperately.

She crossed her arms over her chest and started rubbing her upper arms as if to warm herself. "I barely know you," she said in a small voice.

"That's not true," he said softly, putting his finger under her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. "You know me."

"I've been with him for six years," she said.

"But you've been with me all summer," he reminded her. It wasn't a strong argument, but it was all he had.

"Maybe this was just a fling."

"Don't say that," he said, angry now. "You're just in shock."

"He asked me to marry him."

Derek didn't say anything, just stood there not even realizing he was holding his breath.

"I said yes."

Derek shook his head. "Don't do this, Penelope. Don't do this. Marry _me_!"

She laughed bitterly. "You don't want to marry me. You just don't want to lose me."

"You're right. I don't wanna lose you. But you're wrong, too. I would _love_ to marry you."

She choked on a sob. "And then what?"

"You can come back to Chicago with me," he said, already planning their future.

She shook her head. "You're finishing school," she said.

"I'll transfer here," he told her without missing a beat.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't."

"It's not fair, Derek. I don't know how long…" She cleared her throat. "I think it's gonna be a long time before I'm OK again."

"I'm not asking for a time frame, baby girl. I just want to take care of you in the meantime."

She looked up at his face and saw the genuineness there. But she couldn't ask him to leave his family—_wouldn't_ ask him to. Not after just losing hers. So she stepped closer to him and rested her cheek against his chest; it was easy while she was on the step below him. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around her shoulders, kissing her on the top of the head. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. She wanted to always remember the way he smelled. So masculine and 'Derek.'

XXXXX

When she stepped away from him, he knew it was over. His arms had never felt so empty. Derek had to force himself take another step back so he wouldn't make her stay.

"I'll never forget this summer," she said softly.

"Neither will I," he agreed, his voice husky.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He winced. He couldn't let her walk away feeling guilty. "Don't be sorry," he scolded her. "Don't you _dare_ be sorry."

Her eyes welled up with tears.

"Because I won't be." He took a deep breath. "Penelope, I'm gonna be fine," he lied smoothly.

She nodded uncertainly.

"If you need anything…I'm here for another week. _Anything_, Penelope."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Good bye, Derek."

Derek didn't say anything—he couldn't bring himself to actually say goodbye to her. He could only watch as she turned and walked away.

He'd waited all week for her to come back.

But she hadn't.


	2. Chapter 1

Fifteen Years Later…

_Another Sleepless Night I Can't Explain…Somebody Said They Heard Me Call Your Name…_

Derek Morgan flew up out of his seat and took in his surroundings. He didn't usually sleep so heavily on the plane, but he hadn't slept a wink last night.

Prentiss was grinning. "That must have been some dream," she said.

"Yeah," Derek muttered as he ran a hand over his bald head. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat with a yawn.

"Are you worried about a supply shortage?" JJ asked with a grin.

Derek frowned. "No. Why?"

JJ laughed. "Because you kept saying 'Pen' in your sleep. You followed it up with something, but I couldn't quite make it out."

"Maybe 'post-its,'" Reid said with a chuckle.

Derek would guess he'd followed it up with 'elope,' but he wasn't about to admit that. Fifteen years later, and he still had the occasional dream about her. He'd kept in touch with Preston for a little while after that summer, but when he'd asked about Penelope and Preston had told him she'd gotten married, he'd never spoken to him again. It was too hard for him. He didn't want to ask about Penelope, but he couldn't _not._

Derek knew she was 'the one that got away' and he'd been devastated for years. But then he'd moved on…to pissed off. Until finally he'd come home one day and Desiree had thrown every thing he'd had that reminded him of Penelope out with the trash. At first he'd been furious. He'd gone into a rage—and _that_ was when he'd realized how far gone he really was. He'd made the decision right then to push her out of his mind for good—and he had. While he was awake. But he couldn't stop the dreams that invaded him at night. Derek sighed as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He'd been dreaming about her for a week and it was driving him crazy. There was only thing that could cure him—a good lay. He was going to have to go out prowling tonight.

XXXXX

Penelope sighed as she looked around the little interrogation room. She supposed she should be scared. But unfortunately, Penelope didn't have a good track record of doing what she _should_. So instead, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the dull gray table and waited.

XXXXX

"What do you want to do?" the man asked as he studied the young woman through the glass window—it was one way. The other side would appear to be a mirror.

Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner sighed. "We could try it," he said. "We'll have someone monitor her computer, see if she's doing anything illegal. Give her a six month trial period, and if it works out, we've got ourselves one hell of a Technical Analyst on our hands."

"You'd have to take responsibility for her," the man reminded him.

Hotch nodded with a sigh. "I understand that." He grabbed the brown box full of files and pushed through the door.

"It's about time," the blonde muttered.

"Ms. Garcia, I don't think you can possibly comprehend the amount of trouble you're in here," Hotch said with false impatience.

She rolled her eyes. "Right. You know, I've seen the shows. I know that that box right there is empty," she snapped, pointing to it. "A nice ruse just to get my blood pumping, my fear going full force. Well, guess what? I'm not scared."

Hotch lifted an amused eyebrow at her. "It seems that you watch too much television, Ms. Garcia."

She flew up out of her chair and pulled the top off the box. Her eyes widened as she saw the stack of files piled high. She pulled the top one out and saw the face of a man who had paid her a pretty penny to get some information for him. Information he had no business being privy to. She dropped it on the table, and then pulled the next one out. Same circumstances, different man. She dropped the file and then plopped back down in her chair. "Oh, shit," she muttered.

"Yeah, oh shit is right," he agreed.

She lifted her eyes to his. "Do I need a lawyer?" she asked.

"That depends," the man told her.

"On what?" she asked curiously.

"On you. I'm about to give you a choice, Ms. Garcia. My name is Aaron Hotchner, and I'm the Unit Chief for a division in the F.B.I. called the Behavioral Analysis Unit," he said, introducing himself.

"Great," she said huffily. "What does that have to do with me?"

The man cleared his throat. "We're having a problem finding someone who has access to all of the information needed to do our jobs efficiently," he said. "We could use a good…Technical Analyst."

"So, in laymen's terms, you need a hacker," she deduced.

"I didn't say that," he said quickly.

"Did you _mean_ it?" she shot back.

He didn't say anything, just stood there studying her face. He was very good at his job…she fidgeted under his stare.

"And if I refuse?" she asked with a rebellious lift of her chin.

"You're looking at five to ten. Easy," he told her.

She sighed. "What are the hours?"

"When my unit isn't out on a case, the hours are eight to five, Monday through Friday," he said.

She shook her head. "I don't do mornings," she informed him.

"You will in prison, Ms. Garcia."

"And when your unit _is_ out on a case?" she asked.

"You might work twenty four hours straight," he answered.

"What?"

"Some nights, you'll _sleep _at the BAU."

She wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't sound very…accommodating," she said distastefully.

"It's not," Hotch told her. "But then again, serial criminals rarely _are _accommodating."

She sighed. "Fine," she said. "But I'm going to have to get an apartment closer to Boston."

"Why's that?"

Penelope laughed harshly. "It's a long commute from Maine to Boston," she told him.

"It's an even longer one from Boston to Quantico," he said.

"_Quantico_? What's in _Quantico_?" she asked.

"The headquarters where my unit is," he informed her.

"Oh, hell, no," she said. "I am _not_ moving to Virginia."

He nodded. "Very well, then, Ms. Garcia. I wish you the best of luck with your case." He turned to go.

"Wait a minute!" she said, suddenly panicked. OK, _now_ she was scared. Five to ten? Was he kidding?

Aaron Hotchner turned back around.

"How long do I have to decide?"

"Three steps."

"Excuse me?"

"It's three steps before I'm out this door," he told her. "As soon as I walk out of the room, this offer is off the table."

"What the _hell_ kind of deal is that?" she asked.

"The _quick_ kind. Look, Ms. Garcia—for all I know, you don't even have the skills I need to get me the information that will help my team out. You'd probably profit more from this deal than I would, so I'm not willing to wait on you. Either you're in, or you're out. Which is it?" He already knew the answer. He had plenty of information to profile her in the short time he'd spent with her.

Penelope's eyes narrowed. _Not have the skills to get him what he needed? Who in the hell did he think he was dealing with here?_ "I'm in," she said begrudgingly.


	3. Chapter 2

_The Radio Won't Let You Leave My Mind…I Know It's Over But I Don't Know Why…_

Derek moved quietly to the side of the mattress and stood, breezing around the room noiselessly to gather his clothes. He'd gone out with the team last night (minus Hotch, who was always in a hurry to get home to Haley and Jack) and he'd picked up the sleeping woman at last call. He couldn't remember her name. Had he even _asked_ her? He sighed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. There were so many now, they were starting to blend together. Dark hair, dark eyes, and petite. He didn't care what they looked like…as long as they weren't blonde with bright eyes and generous curves.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he pulled her bedroom door open and made his way to his truck.

XXXXX

Reid grinned as Derek walked into the BAU with his sunglasses. "Late night?" he asked.

"No later than you," Derek reminded him. "So why are _you_ so bright eyed and bushy tailed?"

"Because while you were drinking beer last night, I was enjoying my water. _And_ because I didn't engage in any extra-curricular activities after last call," Reid informed him.

"Kid, that's not my fault. Maybe if you _did_ engage in them, you'd be smiling a lot more."

"He smiles enough," Prentiss informed Derek. "Don't get snappy because you get any sleep last night."

Derek chuckled. "Darlin', I'm not snappy. Just satisfied. What I got was _way_ better than sleep."

"Ewww," JJ said as she approached the group. "I knew I should have stayed in last night and cuddled with Will and Henry. Anyway, back to business as usual…Hotch wanted me to pass on some information. Apparently we have a new tech analyst."

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "I swear to God, if he spits when he talks like the last one did—"

JJ shook her head. "No chance of that. He's a _she_."

Derek took his sunglasses off. "Really?" he asked, suddenly interested.

"I forbid you to sleep with her," Prentiss said.

Derek grinned. "I promise, Emily. There will be _no_ sleeping."

"Pig," Prentiss muttered.

"Is she hot?" Derek asked.

"I didn't get a head shot of her, Derek," JJ said dryly.

"It's not her head I'm interested in," he said with silky-smoothness.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Could you at least _try_ to keep it in your pants?" she asked. "We've been through _four_ technical analysts in the last year alone because they couldn't get the job done. We don't need to lose one because _you_ ran her off."

"Hey, I'm all for monogamous sex as long as it doesn't involve spending the night or sweet talking," Derek told her.

"What _happened_ to you to turn you into such a player?" JJ asked curiously. It was a question that had been plaguing her for years.

Derek grinned. "Nothing _happened_ to me, JJ. I just like women." And _women_ seemed to reciprocate the feeling.

Reid sighed. "This is going to be…interesting," he predicted.

"So what division is she from?" Derek asked.

"Hotch didn't say," JJ answered. "In fact, he didn't give me any details at all about her past experience with the bureau. But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. She'll be in this afternoon."

"I'm teaching a self defense class this afternoon," Derek said.

"Thank God," Prentiss muttered. "It will give us time to _warn_ her about your escapades."

Derek grinned. "But I'll make sure I stop by and say hello before heading downstairs."

XXXXX

"My God, Penelope. I knew you were into some shady shit, but I didn't think you were stupid enough to get caught!" Preston said not for the first time.

His wife cleared her throat. "Babe, I think you've made your point," she said as Penelope rolled her eyes and carried the next box into her new apartment.

"Helena! It's the F.B.I.! You think this is OK?" he asked angrily.

"No," she said calmly. "I don't think it's OK. But I don't think that raising your voice and yelling at your thirty-seven year old sister is going to _help_ things. Do you?"

Preston sighed. "Well _I_ feel a little bit better," he mumbled.

"This isn't about you," she informed him. "It's about Penelope."

"Yeah! And the fact that she has to move to fuckin' Virginia!" he practically roared.

Helena's eyes widened. "You're scared because you won't be here to take care of her," she said as understanding dawned.

"Yes, well…" Preston sputtered. "We see what happens to my little sister when left to her own devices."

He picked a box up out of the moving van and started stalking towards Penelope's new apartment. He was almost to the door when Helena caught up to him again. "Pres, have you stopped to think that maybe this is what she needs? A little independence?"

"I like it when she's independent in Maine living right next door to us," he said.

Helena laughed. "That's _not_ her being independent," she reminded him.

"Of course it is," he argued. "You think if she was in my hip pocket that I would have let her get mixed up in this stuff?"

"Preston, what's going on?" Helena asked softly.

He put down the box he was holding and rested his hands on his waist. "She's the last one," he said softly. "My brothers moved away, but at least Penelope was still there. Now she's gonna be gone, too. I just…hate to think what Mom and Dad would think if they saw all of us separated."

"Preston, I know you love to take care of her, and as great as you are at it…" Helena grinned. "She's gonna be in the care of the F.B.I. now. She won't get away with _anything._"

Preston sighed. "Well I like _that,_" he admitted.

The screen door opened and Penelope ran down the steps. "I have to get to…" She made a face. "F.B.I. headquarters." She turned to Helena. "Can you try to perk my brother up before I get back? He's getting on my last nerve."

XXXXX

The man she'd met in Boston, SSA Aaron Hotchner, was waiting for her in the lobby when she arrived. He led her to H.R., where she was fingerprinted (again), had a badge made up and was given keys to the building and to her office, then they made their way to the elevator.

"I didn't tell the team the circumstances surrounding your arrival," Hotch informed her. "I wanted that to be up to you. If you want to tell them, I won't stop you. If not, that's your choice. But just so you know, my team works best when there's an immense amount of trust involved."

She turned to look at him. "I'd rather not to drop that bomb yet." Better not to start a new job off with everyone watching her every move. She was certain there was already a team assembled to do _that_. And as the 'new girl,' she'd generate enough interest from her co-workers without them knowing her background in…gathering 'protected' information.

He nodded as the elevator doors opened and they stepped off. He led her through some double glass doors and up a ramp, and then walked into a conference room where three people were waiting. "Good afternoon," Hotch said to them. "This is Penelope Garcia. She's our new Technical Analyst. She comes to us from Boston," he told them. It wasn't _exactly _a lie. "Garcia has extensive experience in…assembling information in a timely fashion and being able to…infiltrate systems that are supposedly impenetrable," he explained.

"It's nice to meet you," a young blonde woman said as she stood up from the round table. She walked over and stuck out her hand. "I'm Jennifer Jareau, Media Liaison for the team. You can call me JJ."

Penelope smiled as she shook JJ's hand. Would she be as welcoming if she knew of her colored past? "It's nice to meet you," Penelope said.

Agents Reid and Prentiss introduced themselves as well, and Penelope got a quick run down on the skills they brought to the team before Hotch spoke again. "Where's Morgan?" he asked.

"Derek's teaching a self-defense class this afternoon," JJ answered.

Penelope's head snapped up in alarm. _Derek Morgan? _It couldn't be. After all these years, there was no way that fate would be so cruel as to bring him back into her life under these circumstances. But she'd no sooner completed her thought when he appeared at Hotch's side.

"Morgan," Hotch said. "Glad you could stop by before your class. I'd like to introduce you to our new Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia."

Penelope remembered the broken look in his eyes when she'd left him—it had haunted her for the past fifteen years. Apparently it needn't have. As he looked her up and down, there wasn't a hint of brokenness in his eyes…only contempt. She wondered if the others saw it as well. She swallowed past the lump of nervousness in her throat and shifted her stance under his harsh perusal.

Finally he spoke. "Nice to meet you…_Penelope_ was it?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes," she whispered.

He nodded, and then turned to Hotch. "I need to get downstairs." And with that, he was gone.


End file.
